Fullmetal Alchemist: To Find Shamballa
by Jennifer Darknight
Summary: Alfons Heiderich had been cursed with dreams of another world since his childhood, but never in his wildest dreams had he expected that they were true. A rewrite of the old "To Find Shamballa", this is a severe divergence of Movie Canon. Ed / Alfons.
1. Introduction

Germany, 1921.

As the curtain of the Great War fell, and in the wake of the Treaty of Versailles, a great recession hit the country. Unemployment flew to an all-new high, and inflation made things go from bad to worse faster than any of us could have dreamed it would. We had lost the war, so of course those damned British, French, and Americans thought that it was our place to pay reparation for it, leaving men without work and children to starve. The once-great streets of my homeland were filled with those who could not find a means to pay for themselves, soup kitchens running out of food faster than they could fill, and the occasional putrid smell of death and disease permeating the back alleys and sidestreets of my hometown.

As for myself…

My family had never known riches. My mother worked in the factories during the war, but before that she was a simple housewife. My brother left for God-knows-where years ago, but I haven't seen him since. The same happened to my father: he went off to fight, but nobody had told me what became of him. The two other men of the family, gone without a trace, no letter or even a telegram to tell what had gone wrong.

My mother held hope until she, too, was gone.

And so I remained.

As a scholar, with high test scores and a body too weak for fighting, I was kept away from the front lines, staying on the home front. I was 'too useful' to be wasted in battle, I guess. So with that, I had time to study my passion, to use my own talents in hopes to find a means to give my country what it had long-deserved.

Rocketry.

Imagine the sort of things that we could learn, simply by going to space! By flying to a world untouched and unsullied by the Earth below, learning from the inhabitants and taking that knowledge home. Think of how wonderful it would have been if Germany had found the means to do this first. Before the Americans, before the Russians. Before those other countries that looked down on us and spit on us after the war.

So I traveled, catching word of a man in Transylvania: Herr Oberth, who had studied at the University of Munich. He was German, and was looking for apprentices, to further study his craft.

I had to meet him. It was almost a necessity, like breathing.

I went on, hopping from train to train, leaving home and country behind in pursuit of a greater goal and purpose than what I had been living then.

You now, looking back on it now, it's funny what a man can do in pursuit of knowledge. And what a small spark can give to bring light to a man's delusions, changing his life for the better and bringing him things that he would have never imagined possible.


	2. Chapter 1

"Hey, Alfons!"

Alfons Heiderich wiped his forehead, rising from his previous crouch and stepping towards the guardrail, looking down at the man on the level below him.

Herr Dorrecht was a nice enough guy. He hailed from Berlin, or so Alfons heard, showing up six months at Herr Oberth's doorstep before he did. In this place, not many asked questions: nobody really cared about where you were from, or what you did for a living, so long as you had the drive to work, the passion for engineering, and the genius to put both together.

Well, that and the ability to deal with the scream of engines and the thick, grinding crash of gears assaulting their ears a good portion of the time. With some of the early apprentices, the simple thick smell of cooking machine oil was enough to send them packing.

Though Alfons couldn't help but notice that Herr Dorrecht was a bit short, and maybe a bit short-_tempered _for most people's liking. He did what he could for those who knew him well, but it was easy to grow aggravated with the noise he could make, not unlike a man's feelings for a loyal dog who barked too easily and too much, perhaps.

"Yeah?" Alfons called.

"Herr Oberth wants – dammit, would you shut that thing off first?"

"Oh, sorry!"

Moving towards the small machine to his right, Alfons pressed a switch that stuttered it to silence.

He moved back to the guardrail. "Better?" Alfons asked.

"Much!" Dorrecht shouted back.

"So what's going on? What's this about Herr Oberth?"

"Don't ask me, he just told me that he wanted to see you!"

It was probably about the design he was currently working on. Still, a consultation this early? One would think he would have waited a few days before the design was more finalized. Oh, well, it didn't hurt to bounce a few ideas back and forth, he supposed. "All right. Let him know that I'm coming, okay? I'll be right down!"

Four months already. It certainly didn't feel that long. The scent of machine oil still sometimes made him feel lightheaded (curse his weak constitution), and it was hard for him to get used to the sheer size of the space used for the apprentices to go about their work. The top floor was for small prototype experiments and blueprint building, with many large tables and workbenches to go about building small parts. Sometimes larger engines were built up there, as well, which was made ever-more convenient by the use of flat lifts to went from level to level. Originally there were stairs, but after Frau Oberth had tripped one too many times in an attempt to deliver one or two apprentices their supper, and it was either build a means to get up and down efficiently, or not eat anywhere but the kitchen, their room, or the modest mess hall. Of course, the bottom level was used primarily for testing, demonstrations, and the occasional session of fraternizing during work.

Letting out a small breath, he combed his fingers through wheat-blond hair and stretched his arms before heading to the lifts.

_Four months here,_ he thought with a smile. _It really has been that long, hasn't it...? _

Laughing to himself, he stepped on the lift platform, pushing the button to move it downward. "Now let's go see what the old man wants."

* * *

There was never a question of duty in this household. Herr Oberth worked on his own theories, meanwhile the apprentices practiced their own craft by making their own designs and testing them in front of not just Herr Oberth but each other. Through all this Frau Oberth cooked, cleaned, and practically played as housemother to the apprentices, alongside a Mr. Jean Havoc who acted as assistant chef. Really, the patience of that woman was astounding, and the way she could bring her foot down, even to the harder-skinned apprentices, was something to be admired. She made them clean up after themselves, make their own beds, and wash their own dishes when they were done eating.

It reminded Alfons fleetingly of his own mother, when she was still alive. Granted, his mother was much more fussy. She wouldn't even let Alfons go out in the rain with an umbrella, for God's sake. Said it would catch him a death of a cold.

Ah, the minor comforts of home. Even in four months, he was seeing a lot of home here, come to think of it. And even then, the place—

"Alfons!"

—definitely had its own charm.

"Ah!"

"Eeek, I'm so, so, so sorry! Did I scare you Alfons, did I? Huh?"

Little Noa was only four. She was a spritely little thing, with dark skin and long brown hair, and a pair of brown eyes that were almost too large for that round, cute face of hers. How long had she been there, under the Oberths' roof? Certainly longer than Alfons had been. She was some sort of tribal girl, that much was obvious.

Though he had pegged her as a surrogate child, it seemed like he was the only one that she talked to.

Alfons shook his head before looking down at the girl. "No, Noa, you didn't scare me. But you know that you shouldn't be running around here by yourself! The work area and the hallways near it are dangerous."

Her eyes fell, and the girl tugged at the skirt of her violet dress.

"I-I know…b-but…Herr Oberth wanted to see you…"

"And it's sweet that you'd like to help out, but Herr Dorrecht already let me know."

"I thought he'd forget." She said. "People forget sometimes, right?"

"Yes, they do," Alfons said, shaking his head, "But he isn't quite the forgetful type."

"...Oh."

Okay, it was hard to be stern with her (as 'stern' as Alfons got. He had the strangest suspicion that he looked about as threatening as a wet dog when he tried to scold, much to his chagrin) poking her lip out like that and pouting. Kneeling down to Noa's level, he brushed some hair away from her face. "I'm not mad at you, honey. But you know that if Frau Oberth catches you in these hallways you're bound to get in trouble."

The scandalous expression on the little girl's face somehow reminded Alfons of a fish. Letting out a gasp, she stepped back, flailing her arms."You won't tell, will you, Alfons? Will you, will you?"

"Of course I won't tell, Noa. Just try not to do it again."

There was that smile of hers. "Okay!"

Getting to his feet, Alfons already started walking down the hallway, Noa making a valiant attempt to match his much longer stride.

…

So of course, it was only natural for him to try to match her tottering gait.

"S-so…" Noa's voice was tiny as Alfons opened a door, letting them both in. The hallway was narrow, but from the third door on the right, it led into another, much wider hallway that could fit more.

"Yes, Noa?" It was almost obscene how much Alfons had to look down to see her. He knew he was tall, but sometimes it hurt to have to crane his neck like that.

The little girl was looking down towards her feet, though, perhaps to make an attempt to not trip over her own feet as she walked.

"D-do you…know why he called you?"

"No." Alfons said, "That's what I'm going to see him for. To find out."

"Oh."

It was almost heartbreaking how disappointed she sounded.

"So um…" She paused, sneaking a shy look up at him. "Do you wanna know?"

"Why he called me?"

"Uh-huh."

Putting a finger to his chin, Alfons looked as though he was weighing his options. "I don't know…would he be mad if you told me? If he didn't tell me, maybe it's something super-super secret?"

"Huh-uh! It's not super-sekrit at all! He wouldn't be mad."

"You mean 'secret'?"

Noa puffed out her cheeks. "That's what I _said_!"

"Hahaha! Then yes—I'd love for you to tell me."

It was always so cute how she'd furrow her eyebrows, as if deep in thought. She would put her finger in her mouth just a bit and bite down, but not enough to hurt, or draw blood.

"Well…someone's here."

He blinked. "Someone's here?"

"Uh-huh. A new…apprentice."

Alfons raised an eyebrow. A new apprentice? So soon? "But if he has a new Apprentice, why would he call me?"

Perhaps it was a means for the junior apprentices to start getting along, and get used to things. Even though he was only there for four months, Alfons had memorized the layout of the building and the workshops faster than all the others, and had even helped with designing and assembling the lifts that had made the work-area a place of convenience for not just the apprentices, but the hired help as well.

Noa shook her head. "Dunno. The man went into the room, and then Herr Oberth came out and found the Dog-Man, who was around, and was all 'go get Alfons!' and he was all 'okay!' and then he went to get you, but I thought he'd forget so I went to try to get you too."

Again with the dog comments? At least Alfons and one or two of the apprentices weren't the only ones to make the connection. But still. "That's not a nice thing to call someone, Noa."

"But he is like a dog!" Noa insisted, walking faster. "He barks like one and he gets mad if I go near him, just like the dog next door."

Just like a child to interpret antisocial, grouchy behavior for being 'mad'. If one looked at it her way, then Dorrecht was mad all the time, though that may have not been far from the truth, with his temper.

No, that probably wasn't a good way to think.

"That's just because he's grouchy. He works a lot, so sometimes he can get focused, that's all."

"Well, he's nice to _you_."

"That's because he works with me. I'm sure that if we didn't work together he'd be grouchy with me, too."

"Kay."

He didn't know when he had stepped out of the last hallway and stepped into his current one, or when he had even opened a door at all, for that matter, but if he took any more steps forward, there was a very high chance that he would smack straight into Herr Oberth's door.

God knew that he didn't want to show himself to the new apprentice looking like _that_.

That would be the perfect way to introduce himself: "Hi, I'm Alfons Heiderich! I'm the most junior apprentice and I just slammed right through the door. I'm sorry, I swear I'm not a complete idiot."

"Well, I'll go now, 'cause I'm sure you want to meet the new person and be ultra-awesome friends with him and stuff. But you won't forget about me, so I'm okay." Noa backed away a few steps, smiling. "And I did your fortune this morning, and it said that you'd meet a really cool person, so this new person must be nice."

It was always a wonder why she clung to him so much. He was always in the workroom, fixing engines, looking over blueprints…but whenever he would step out, there she would be…babbling some nonsense about a card or another, or talking to him about God-knows-what. She was cute, and very sweet, but he had to wonder why the girl took to him over gentle giant Law, who was practically born to be a father.

Or why she would tell his fortune every morning, even when she didn't have to.

…

Or why it often turned out to be accurate.

"Bye, Alfons!"

"Bye, Noa. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will!"

The girl was off and quickly out of sight, and Alfons turned back towards the door, putting his hand on the handle.

He could hear the hum of Herr Oberth's quiet tone already, though there was another voice that was near-impossible to make out.

He ducked into the room, nearly slinking inside as he shut the door behind him.

* * *

"Herr Oberth, you said you wanted to see me?"

"Oh, Alfons! Come in, come in!"

When Edward Elric had come to this world from the other side, he had thought that he would have never heard that name uttered from casual lips again. Just from the annals of a memory, or maybe dreams, haunting him until he just couldn't take it anymore.

He had certainly not expected the young 'genius' of the apprentices to share the same name, or the same _face_, either. Blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin. His body was tall (But it should have _never_been tall, dammit. Even with guys that _looked_ like Al, why, why was Edward _always_ shorter?), his features were soft (almost too soft – was this guy really male?), and he didn't even have one ounce of muscle. It was as though Al and Winry formed into some fucked-up chimera or conjoined twin, standing right in front of him and appearing in his hell, or delusion, or _whatever_ in the hell this place was.

It wasn't helping that the poor kid was staring at him with an expression that mirrored what Edward had felt.

The boy—Alfons—managed to compose himself (though those blue eyes of his never seemed to lose that twinge of shock) and took a step forward, glancing at Ed again for just a quick moment before turning his gaze to the roundish, older man sitting on the other end of the desk.

Hermann Oberth was pleasant enough, Ed supposed. He was one of those 'middle-aged-guy-next-door' types with a round body and a gentle smile that almost reminded him of Sig a little. Well, this guy was more fat, far less muscle. No offense to the poor man, but Herr Oberth didn't look like he could lift forty pounds without wheezing. "Alfons, I'd like to introduce you: this gentleman is Edward Elric."

Why did Alfons's back suddenly stiffen?

_It's the same face. _Edward thought. Oh man, his head was starting to spin._ The same face, the same __**name**__. But it can't be. Al's on the other side. At least I think he is. If the transmutation worked correctly, then he'd have to be. _

Suddenly, Edward was thankful that he had learned some semblance of a poker face over the years.

_ ...Wait. The two worlds are parallel, so of course if one existed on my side, then they'd have to exist on the other side, too. But..._

Ugh, Ed could still feel his hands shaking in place inside his coat pockets. To run into Al, or at least a version of Al, had to have been the Gate laughing at him. Or just the Universe as a whole, he wasn't picky which.

"El…ric?" Alfons repeated, as if he couldn't properly pronounce it. Though even with the thick accent, Alfons managed to swallow the word perfectly.

"Yes. Mr. Elric hails all the way from America. Didn't you say you were from…?"

"New York." Ed finished (more like _choked_, really), in his horribly accented German. "I came from New York."

Alfons looked to him, cocking his head to the side. "New York, hm?"

"Yeah."

"So…" The man was trying his best to smile, but it was hard to look at him. His nervous stance, his thin smile, his clenching and unclenching hands…

Alfons swallowed, and tried opening his mouth again:

"You…ist American, ja?"

Edward tried not to cringe at the accent that hung in the young man's English. Did he somehow have a frog with strep throat as his speaking coach, or was he sounding that bad on purpose? The English words were well-pronounced, but with the random German words sprinkled in, it was as though he was playing a horrible stereotype from one of those British novels he'd picked up in that thrift store in Munich.

Herr Oberth, though, didn't share the same sentiment.

"Alfons, so you do speak English as well as I have heard."

"N-no sir…not at all." Was it bad that Edward almost expected that sort of shy response from him?Even his German seemed to lilt a little. "I only know a little."

"You mustn't overlook your talents."

"Really sir…it isn't much…"

The same smile, the same voice, the same face, and if he had gained some muscle, the same body too. There were some differences, surely: Alfons looked like he'd never seen the sun in his life, and he stood on the thread between indoorsy bookworm and about to keel over and bite it.

He was sure though that if Al had been able to grow up, if Al had been able to live a normal life, just like everyone else, he probably would have looked exactly the same, spare a few differences.

_ Al_…

No, not here. He wasn't going to think about that here. He was on the road to getting _back _to him; he had to focus.

"…Herr Elric?"

Shit. He wasn't paying attention.

Alfons's blue eyes bore into his, and Herr Oberth's calm black ones gave him a questioning, if not worried stare.

_Damn it._

He coughed a little, using his left hand to adjust the collar of his shirt. "Ahhh, yeah."

"Shall we go?" Alfons smiled a bit…though there seemed something off about it.

"Y-yeah, sure."

He really needed to start paying more attention. There was no room to start spacing out, especially now. But no matter how much he tried not to, the only thing he could do was keep his eyes on his familiar-yet-not companion, even as they stepped out of the office and into the hallway.


End file.
